A Patriot: Remembering the Truth
by mikey magee
Summary: Eli Bradley had sworn he'd never dawn his uniform again. But that was until he was chosen for a mission that could decide the fate of America. Eli is sent back to the 1940's to stop a threat so great, that only a super soldier could handle it. Now, faced with his biggest challenge Eli must stand strong and relearn what true patriotism means. Trigger Warning : Racism
1. Chapter 1

"Who exactly is this kid?"

There was this young man, an African American man, boy really, lying face up against the street in a dirty alleyway. Two men dressed in camo pants stood over him, their eyes trying to make sense of what might of happened to this poor schlub. They looked all around, but there were no signs of a struggle, his clothes were perfectly fine (for a Negro's they supposed) and his head was shaved cleaner than a child's ass.

"Alright, some Negro lying in the street. Why should we care?"

"There were reports that he fell from the sky. At least that what the intel said. He could be some kind of Nazi spy. We can't be too careful can we?"

"A Nazi spy? Come on we don't even let our own Negros into our ranks, why would Germany let any in?"

"I don't know, but you can't be too careful when it comes to the Red Skull can you? Just grab him and let's head back to base."

_ Listen Eli, I've got a mission for you, and you're the only person who can do this. This needs the touch of a Super Soldier. Do you understand?_

"Is he coming to? Doesn't look like it."

_ …it's going to be dangerous…_

"Jesus, just wake that damn nigger up already"

_ …and hard, in more ways than you have ever experienced…_

"Can someone get some water? Splash some on his face, it might even wash the stink off a' him." There was chuckling.

_ …we're sending you back in time._

"Wake Up!"

And just like a soldier returning to battle, Eli's eyes opened with dread.

"Look at that he's awake."

Eli awoke to the looks of an old laboratory. There were transistor radios, and pieces of paper that etched out of machines in ribbons. It was all so low-tech stuff that it made his science fair project look like it was brilliant.

"…damn."

"Hey nigger, we've got some questions for you to answer." That word, used so flippantly to brand him, as if it were just something to say and to regret. He turned his head to the side, he wished he could say it was different in his own time, but really, it wasn't. He knew that better than anyone.

"Hey boy, you still 'sleep?" Some clean-shaven red-head stuck his nose in Eli's face, his breath smelled of cheap cigars. "Where'd you come from?"

He didn't answer.

They laughed. "He must be able to understand English. Poor bastard's gotta be a Nazi. Can we get a translator in here?"

"No, I don't think we have anyone who speaks monkey."

They laughed louder, so loud it seemed to fill Eli's veins. It was almost too hard to wrap his mind around…how could his grandfather fight for dicks like these? Eli's hands were securely fastened behind him in what felt like metal cuffs…something he could break out of easily. But, he couldn't go just yet, not now. He had seen enough Star Trek with Billy and Tommy to know that any small change could affect the future in a way that he couldn't even fathom. If he broke loose, he'd run the risk of revealing certain truths that were not ready to be let out…

Shit.

"Alright boy, I'mma ask you one more time."

This prick, his teeth the color of candy corn, got real close this time. His eyes began to turn red, as if they were trying to seem tougher than they were. Hell, Eli had faced tougher creeps than this before dinner…at least he used to.

"Who…"

Before he made his mistake…

"…are…"

Before his foolishness cost someone their life. Before his hotheadedness lost a valiant soul, before he abandoned everyone he ever cared for.

"…you?"

Before his own uniform was stained in the blood of his fallen comrade.

Eli looked up, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. He clenched his bound hands.

Faster than anyone could think he lunged forward, head first into the guys nose, bringing the chair with him.

"Sit him down!" He heard someone scream, but it was too late. He had powered through the two like pieces of ribbon. Guys never had a chance Hell, not with Eli's strength, not with Eli's mind too full to think twice about anything. He came here for a reason, something too important to fuck up.

"Shoot him!"

He lunched himself towards the door, his hands still bound. He heard the sound of bullets whizzing past his ears. For all he knew, they could have shot him in the chest, he still would have kept running.

"Come on Bruster! You can't hit some kid! Sound the alarm, we got an escaped spy!"

Eli ran against the chrome floor, the walls blurring into the background.

_I can't fuck this up. I can't fuck this up._

Without even thinking, he broke free from his cuffs and sprinted down the hallway, looking for something, anything, that could point to his escape. He could hear the sound of heavy boots pounding against the floor, looking for him.

"Shit. Alright Eli, think." He closed his eyes. "There's gotta be some kind of exit somewhere." He took a deep breath, he tried to pierce past the alarms, the heavy footsteps, and screaming men, and tried to focus on…

Wait!

There amongst the sea of noise he heard something…the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, slamming against a railing and…crickets?

"There!" His feet began to move, faster and faster.

"I see him!" Eli turned his head to see the soldiers running after him, but he never slowed his pace. "He's heading for the West door."

He sprinted his feet carrying him across the floor and through whatever maze he was trapped in. It was at this time that he had wished he trained more, it would have come in handy at a time like this…hell, an assault rifle would have come in handy.

"Someone stop him he's almost there! Why aren't you morons shooting him?"

"We are sir, but nothing's slowin' him down!"

The sound was getting louder, the music of crickets, the sound of the wind against grass blades. He was getting closer.

"Stop him!"

…and closer…

_Eli, do you think you can handle this mission? There is a high possibility you won't come back from it?_

…and closer…

_Are you sure you know the risks?_

Until…

_Understood. But remember…_

The small glint of moonlight washed over his face, and the night enfolded him, hiding him away from the eyes of his pursuers. He couldn't fuck this up, not with so much on the line.

_...failure could mean the end of us all._


	2. Chapter 2

The streets were empty. Eli was never much of a history student, but he remembered his grandmother used to tell him that sometimes, in some cities, streets were cleared for fear of running into trouble. Others were terrified the Nazis would attack at any moment; either way, with no one around it gave Eli the perfect time to slip into an empty alleyway and try to catch his breath.

He slid against the brick wall, and fell down, his hands crashed against a nearby garbage can.

"Alright Eli, just calm down." He leaned his head back. They never told him it would be like this, but then again, how could they have known that? Director Fury had sent for him, forcing him out of retirement, saying something about an important mission.

"Our top scientists have been working on a way to pierce the barrier of time." Fury said. The man's trench coat flowed like a cape. "We have reason to believe a threat has gone back in time to destroy the time stream."

Eli tilted his head to the side and tried not to laugh. Was he supposed to buy this shit? "And how exactly do you know about that?"

Fury turned and stared straight into Eli's eyes, even with one eye, the man's glare was still as hard the afternoon light. "We've detected temporal rifts, lately they've been happening more and more frequently. Something's going on and we need you to take care of it." Simple statement. No minced words, not stutters, just business.

"And why me? Why not someone else?"

Fury smirked. "Because you're the only person who can."

Once Eli caught his breath, he peeked out of the alley way and began to walk the lonely sidewalk. The streetlamps blazed a trail for him to follow. So, the time traveling was a success, but what now? He assumed from the "Whites Only" signs (which made him want to punch the nearest wall) he was still in America. For all he knew it could have been New York…but the place looked so different. He remembered looking at his grandparent's old photographs of the city. He even had his grandmother point out how things were so different back in her time.

"You know that mall next to the bakery? That used to be a long row of fruit stores. I used to walk past there every morning."

He would laugh for hours at how the city had changed itself, like a young man growing into his own body.

"Alright…" Even with his grandmother's pictures, he was still lost, and there was still the idea of those soldiers coming after him. "Shit."

There had to be some place he could stay for the night, some place that wouldn't draw attention to himself. He turned to a pile of trash pushed off to the side of the streets. The newspaper looked like pieces of softened spaghetti…but regardless it looked comfortable.

"A black guy sleeping in a gutter? That's not suspicious at all." He tried to laugh, tried to shake off his little comment as a hipster joke, or a sarcastic remark…but those words cut too deeply. "A black guy sleeping in a gutter."

Where was he? The streets looked almost new, there were no heavy skid marks, the streetlamps look classic, as if they were something you'd find at Disney World. Where was the blaring music from cell phones? Where were the streetdancers that littered the place trying to out do each other? Where was the graffiti that told the world "Hey, people live here."? Was this how his grandfather saw the world when he was finally released? Let go into a world that never knew him, and that he would never understand? He felt his blood boil again.

"Patriot, we're sending you back to the 1940's. That's where the time disturbances originated from."

"Hold up. I'm pretty sure you've got other agents (y'know, people who you're payin') who can do this for you. And if not, what about Cap?"

Fury shook his head. "No, Captain America can't return to this period, it would cause too many complications, and this job requires a super soldier. No doubt about it." Fury's look turned stern. "We need you Eli. Your country needs you."

He almost scoffed. His country? What country? The country that shunned his grandfather? The country that branded him a thug by the time he was old enough to count to twenty? The country refused to believe a man who looked like him could be human. That country?

"But if not for your country…think of your grandfather."

Eli crouched down beneath the shredded newspaper, and leaned against the wall.

"My grandfather." His chest began to throb. He shook off his thoughts. He couldn't get sentimental; he had a job to do after all. Finding this freak, and taking him down, and getting back home. Somehow.

* * *

"What do you mean he got away?" General Smith was a large man, despite the fact that he was one of the shortest soldiers the platoon had ever seen. Some say he was the reincarnation of Napoleon himself…others just say he has an inferiority complex.

"Sir, the spy was too much for us."

Smith rolled his eyes. "You mean to tell me you guards were outclassed by a Negro?" He almost laughed. "So what does that say about _you_ exactly?"

"General, that's not fair. That wasn't no ordinary spy…he was strong."

"And fast-"

"Shoot, it was almost like we were fighting against Captain America."

"Well hold on, he wasn't _that_ good. It was probably just some nigger survival instinct. You know how monkeys get when they're spooked."

Smith scowled. "So what you're saying is you soldiers were too incompetent to handle one spy, and how you've put our whole country at risk. Bravo gentlemen."

The soldiers shrunk back, as if they had just been hit in the gut."General, what exactly would you have us do?"

He laughed. "You? Nothing. But I know someone who can." General Smith turned towards his desk. His fingers tapped onto the woodwork like bullets spilling from a gun. Hunting down a Nazi spy…and a negro one at that. Huh, the Germans must be getting desperate. But he didn't let it bother him, no, he'd find that animal by any means necessary.

"You're dismissed. Get the hell out."

No matter what it took.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning. For Eli the morning never meant much. To him, the sun's rays meant another chance to watch his grandfather fade deeper into himself. The song of the blue jays meant another chance to walk down the streets of his neighborhood and remember what he was. Something no one would allow him to forget. To him the morning meant another day to survive, rather than another day to live.

And this morning was no different…

"Excuse me? Young man?"

…except for that voice

Buried beneath shredded newspaper Eli met the morning glow. His eyes lifted to see a woman, in a stained skirt stood over him. Her skin was the hue of oak wood, and her eyes the color of his grandfather's old clock.

"W-what?"

Like a spring, Eli leapt to his feet, his eyes darting from left to right. Was he under attack? Had something gone wrong? Where-

"C-calm down." The woman stepped back, and it wasn't until Eli looked down at the woman's hand that he noticed she carried a bottle of milk.

She sighed. "It's just that…I work as a waitress in the shop across the street." She pointed to an old run down building, right across from where Eli had slept. "And I noticed that you hadn't been moving. I-I wanted to see if you were alright."

Eli stepped back, his face began to turn red as his grandmother's strawberry jam. "Oh…uh…yeah, I…" he looked to the floor, suddenly he was having a hard time meeting the woman's gaze.

She smiled and handed Eli the bottle. "Here, I thought you might be a little thirsty." Her hand shook as she handed him the bottle.

"T-thank you," he unscrewed the cap drank, winced, and then quickly added "Ma'am." His grandmother had always told him manners went a long way back in her day, and something told him he'd be best to follow her words.

"Oh no need for that, I'm not that old. I'm Mary. I was just thinkin' maybe you'd be hungry."

Eli couldn't make his mouth move, he couldn't make his lips open…he could only nod his head in affirmation. What the hell was wrong with him?

Mary smiled, "Ah, I thought as much. Come on in the kitchen and we'll see if we can get ya somethin'."

Before Eli could protest, before he could question why some lady would help a complete stranger off the street, before he could even move his mouth, his body stepped behind the woman and followed her, lured by the promise of a meal.

The kitchen was so…old looking. Was there any other way to describe it? All Eli's life he had been used to seeing microwaves and electric stoves. He had been used to seeing digital clocks on every surface and washing machines tucked away somewhere.

But this…there was an analog clock hanging from the wall, the wooden cabinets that hid beneath the sink hid nothing but wash cloths. On the eastern side of the kitchen there was a wooden chair that looked like it came from the Mayflower…it probably did.

"Nah, you just sit down and I'll see what I can do."

Mary scurried off, looking for something that might be fitting.

Eli shook his head, he needed to focus. Fury had told him there was a threat to this time stream, but the problem was he had no fuckin' clue what it was, where it was coming from, how to find it or how to stop it.

_Nice going Fury, maybe next time when you're giving an ominous speech you can be a little more specific. _

Suddenly, Mary came back with a small plate of eggs, and another bottle of milk. "Here you are."

Eli felt himself shake in his chair. Not that this wasn't appreciated, but…what exactly did she want? No one does something like this for a complete stranger unless there's something in it for them. Eli shrugged his shoulders…he didn't mean to be so distrusting, but there was something about all of this that felt…off.

"…thank you," he piped up, "but you know I-"

"Shh…I know." Mary leaned in closer to him, "I know exactly who you are."

His spine turned to glass, he was almost too afraid to move for fear of it shattering.

"Y-you do?" Could she have been the person he was here to stop? Could this have all been one huge trap? Were his eggs poisoned? Had she placed something in his milk to drug him? Or-

"You're a deserter."

Eli snapped himself from his thoughts. "W-what? I-I'm not-"

"Now you don't have to explain. I know all about it. It's this damn war, and I get it. This may be America's war, but it isn't _our_ war." Mary kneeled down to where Eli was sitting. "They only want us when it comes to gettin' our butts shot at and our blood spilled." She shook her head, "Why should we have to fight for them. Ain't nobody fightin' for us." Her eyes turned downward, stained by a dark hue, a kind of color that could only be conceived by a bitter world, and a great loss. "Ain't nobody fightin' for shit."

Mary rose and turned to the door. "I've gotta get the restaurant ready, but there's more in the icebox if you want it. I'll be back soon." And she left behind a wall of wood.

Her words left a pit in Eli's body, somewhere deep and secret, passionate and bitter…a place he thought had scabbed over but was somehow still raw.

Ain't nobody fightin' for shit.

* * *

**A/N: Hello, (I'm a little nervous because I'm not used to making author's notes) but I just want to say thank you for reading the story so far, and that I'd love to hear from you! **


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